


Now Inside This Place We Hide Away

by nu_breed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s04e08 Wishful Thinking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-12
Updated: 2008-11-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nu_breed/pseuds/nu_breed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hope's wish means that Sam dies again and comes face-to-face with his destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now Inside This Place We Hide Away

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday to my braintwin/evil twin, [](http://veronamay.livejournal.com/profile)[**veronamay**](http://veronamay.livejournal.com/), who is way more vile than this fic, which is (coincidentally) the darkest thing I have ever written. Much love and gratitude to [](http://rejeneration.livejournal.com/profile)[**rejeneration**](http://rejeneration.livejournal.com/) for the beta and [](http://cormallen.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://cormallen.livejournal.com/)**cormallen** for feeding and cheerleading way beyond the call of duty.

The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is _her_. She's stroking his hair, brushing it from his forehead; the ends damp with sweat. She claps her hands together, gleeful and young and he cringes when she squeals at him, "Sam! Sammy you came back to me! We're going to have so. Much. Fun."

He flinches when she kisses him, no longer a little girl, so very much a woman and she bites at his lip as she pulls away, repeating in a whisper, voice thick with sin and promise and everything that makes his skin fucking crawl, "So much fun."

***

_Dean stands there, tells him he remembers everything but no, he doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't even want to think about it._

And yeah, maybe he remembers bits and pieces, maybe he remembers a great deal, but Sam doesn't believe Dean remembers everything. He can't.

Sam's been to Hell not once, but twice now, and he's only been able to survive by compartmentalising. So no, he doesn't believe his brother remembers everything. Sam was only dead for hours the first time, minutes the second, and both were fucking eternities he can't even bear to think about.

Four months? It's unfathomable, and Sam hopes to God he's right about this, because he can't think of Dean having to walk around with four months worth of eternities in Hell eating at his brain.

He's seen exactly what Dean saw, after all.

***

Lilith brings him to Lucifer, kisses him and leaves him there.

Sam's whole body starts to react when he feels The Lightbringer's presence all around him. Sam can feel the blood in his veins moving, changing, can feel it calling out. He realises that this is how he felt when Castiel was standing in front of him, just amplified. It's the angel in Lucifer that makes him want to drop to his knees in supplication, to worship, and honour, and it's the demon inside Sam that makes the compulsion almost impossible to resist.

"Lilith brought me a gift? How very thoughtful of her."

Sam doesn't see him at first, but he can feel him, standing behind Sam, gently running his hands up and down Sam's bare arms. Every stroke of Lucifer's fingers chars his skin. It hurts more than anything Sam's ever experienced, more than the times he's been injured to the point of near-death, more than the agony of Jake sliding that knife in, severing his spinal cord. It makes him want to beg for mercy. But Sam would rather tear his own heart out than beg for anything down here.

When Lucifer crosses in front of him, Sam finally sees him. He is everything Sam thought he’d be: tall, proud and beautiful.

"So noble, Sam," Lucifer brushes Sam's jawline with his fingers, light as a feather. That doesn't stop it from hurting so much he falls to his knees, gasping for breath. "You don't have to be someone you're not, you realise. We know you better than you know yourself."

"You don't know me. Not at all." Sam doesn't look up, just stares at the red-spattered dirt and tries to concentrate on breathing through the pain, tries not to think about the smell of seared flesh, or the sounds of souls howling in torment.

"That's exactly what Dean said," Lucifer crouches down in front of him, and when Sam looks up, he's staring at his brother's face. "Right before we broke him. You know, Sam, he's been lying to you. He does remember his time here with us. Would you like to see?"

Sam shakes his head furiously. He thinks he'd rather have them do anything to him than force him to watch his brother screaming in agony, worse than that, watch him give in, give up. Lucifer smiles, Dean's green eyes looking almost kindly on him before he lays his hand on Sam's head

It feels like it lasts an eternity; Dean in pain, Dean being his normal, defiant self, growling out "that the best you can do?" But they break him eventually, of course, Lucifer and the demons who come to laugh and hurt and degrade his brother beyond imagination, sometimes wearing Sam's face, sometimes their father's, and after he can't take any more, Dean is begging, pleading, whimpering. Then silent.

When it ends, Sam knows he didn't just watch it happening. He lived it, and he can't hold down the bile that forces its way up.

Lucifer gets a hand in his hair, forces Sam to rise to his knees. "Do you think the angels will save you, Sam?" He gets one hand on Sam's cock, his thumb swiping across the head. It doesn't burn this time, it just feels good. So good that it takes every bit of self-control Sam has left not to buck forward into Lucifer's hand.

"They don't want you," he brushes his lips across Sam's, "but we do, Sam. _I_ do. Dean..."

"Don't," Sam manages to choke out, his voice raw, "don't talk about him. And don't wear his face anymore. Please. Anyone but him."

"If that's how you’d like it, Sam." He closes his eyes, and opens them and the face staring back at him is his own. "He's afraid of you, you know. Afraid of this face."

"I wonder why," Sam sneers and Lucifer kisses him then. Holds him there with one hand on the back of his neck and licks into his mouth. It feels dark, intense. Sinful. Sam can't help himself, he moans, and when Lucifer pulls away, his eyes are milky-white and he's smiling.

"Lilith is right. You do taste sweet." He rubs a thumb over Sam's bottom lip and it burns. "Your power is intoxicating, Sam. No wonder Dean is afraid of you."

"I told you not to talk about him."

Lucifer laughs then. It's so strange, seeing the devil laughing at him while wearing his own face, wearing his smile and Sam doesn't know quite how to wrap his head around it.

"What's so funny?" Sam spits out, and Lucifer grabs him by the hair, pulls him in so Sam can feel Lucifer's breath on his face.

"You honestly thought, even for a moment, that you could order me not to talk about Dean? Sam. Have you forgotten why The Lightbringer was cast down from Heaven?" He pauses, his eyes turning hazel again. "Your sense of entitlement is astounding, boy. So much pride, just like your brother had before."

Sam swallows, and the back of his throat tastes bitter. He can't handle the thought of Dean's pride being taken from him, being stripped of his dignity and hope and everything that makes him so uniquely Dean. Sam can't allows himself to believe it would have been possible, because what hope is there for him, then?

"Hope." Lucifer says and for a moment Sam is almost surprised the demon has been reading his thoughts. "You hope many things, don't you, Sam? Hope that you will one day prove your worth to the God who wants you stopped, hope that none of this," he waves his hand, "was in vain. But your biggest hope is that Dean will love you no matter what, isn't it?"

"He does," Sam says, barely whispering now.

"Perhaps," Lucifer lets Sam go, and he falls backwards, wincing as he lands on the rough ground. "But how much more tainted do you think you'll be when you go back up, Sam?"

"I. Back up?"

"Oh, come now, you didn't think this was permanent, did you? This little visit is just a vacation. But I think you like it here, considering you keep coming back. And every time, you take a bigger piece of us with you. Do you think your brother will understand, Sam? Or will Dean look at you and see darkness and chaos the way his angel does?"

"Are you gonna keep up the monologuing?” Sam tries to keep his voice even, stop it from wavering, and he looks Lucifer straight in the eyes," 'cause if you are, I think I'd rather just be tortured. Less painful that way."

"So brave," Lucifer sounds like he's mocking him and Sam can't help but clench his jaw, tight, at the sound. "Azazel did such a wonderful job with you, didn't he? Such a fascinating mix of humanity and dark potential in you. I might have handled things a little differently, had it been me."

"Oh?" Sam doesn't even know why, but he's genuinely intrigued. Not that he'd have a choice even if he wasn't. It's clear that down here that he's not in control of anything.

"The way he has broken you, taken everyone you’ve ever loved away from you. That was not necessary." Lucifer is behind Sam now, holding him there as he scrapes his nails down Sam's chest. It's agonising, like being ripped apart. "Though, I must say, your suffering is rather exquisite. Unnecessary, but very very attractive."

Sam doesn't speak, just bites down on his lip to try and distract himself from the perfect agony of Lucifer's touch.

"That demon always was a fan of the melodramatic, Sam. None of your loss was necessary, because you were always going to end up here. I am sorry for your needless suffering, as much as it pleases me to watch it."

"You're... _sorry_?" Sam clenches his jaw. This makes him angrier than anything ever has in his entire life. "Fuck you, _angel_. I don't need your pity."

Lucifer laughs, a short puff of breath that Sam feels like hot steam against his neck. "It amuses me that you react so violently to me talking this way to you. We are the same, you and I."

"You're a liar," Sam spits out, "I am nothing like you. Nothing." Lucifer pulls his head back, kisses him almost tenderly, and it feels so wrong. Sam digs his fingernails into his palms, making half-moon gouges in his skin as he tries so desperately to concentrate on the pain it brings, rather than giving into this, letting the blood in his veins take over and make him beg for more.

"I can taste you, Sam. Your want. Your power. You're trying so desperately to resist, but the blood inside you won't be denied. Every time you leave us, you take a piece of Hell with you, and it's pulling you apart, isn't it? Every time you use your gifts you're getting closer and closer to who you were always meant to be. I'm the only one who understands that, Sam, the only one who truly knows you."

Lucifer pushes Sam forward so he's on his belly on the hard, scorching ground.

"You don't." Sam tries to move, tries to pull away, but Lucifer is holding him there, holding his wrists with force that Sam can't see. "We're not the same."

"Oh yes. We are." He finds himself flipped onto his back, and Lucifer smiling down at him, with Sam's own face. The demon spreads Sam's legs and pushes one finger inside him, dry. Sam winces at the intrusion, and his fingernails scrape Helldirt when he tries to free his hands from whatever's holding them.

"Please. Don't." Sam hates the waver in his voice, hates that it's come down to this, but he can't just lie there and take it. Not without trying to make him stop. "God. Please."

"God. Yes. Do you really think he's listening, Sam?"

Sam doesn't answer. He can't.

"Your brother," Lucifer mouths against the flesh on Sam's thigh as he forces another finger inside him, "lasted a lot longer before he started begging. And when he did, I made Dean tell me just how badly he wanted you, how he had craved this since you were fourteen years old. So sinful, isn't it? Wanting to take his baby brother's virginity."

Sam watches, horrified as Lucifer's face changes back into Dean's. Tries not to moan when he adds another finger. It hurts so much, but Sam can feel himself responding, his cock hardening, because yeah, the fantasy in this, letting himself believe it’s really Dean, it’s what he's always wanted, what he's dreamed about half his life. It's why he always fucks guys and never lets them fuck him. Saving himself for his brother, so pathetic.

"So much guilt. How wasteful," Lucifer sounds so... amused. He pulls his fingers out, slow, watching Sam's face the entire time, then bends down and digs his teeth into Sam's hip. "Now you get to watch while I take what you felt belonged to your brother, wearing his face."

Sam feels like he just got punched in the stomach. "No," he manages to choke out, "please don't. Not him. Be me again."

Lucifer kisses Sam; brutal and hard, and his teeth slice through Sam's lower lip so that when he pulls away, Sam can see his blood on Dean's mouth staring back at him. Lucifer wipes his blood away and runs his other hand down Sam's chest, belly and brushes the head of his cock.

"Which is the greater sin, Sam? Incest?" Lucifer licks at the blood on his hand, and shakes his head, his face turning into Sam's again, "or narcissism?"

Sam gasps in air, heavy with heat and dust as Lucifer holds him open, and pushes in. He tries to think of anything to distract himself from what's happening here, but there are blocks in the way, like Lucifer's put up a wall around his mind, and Sam can't get through.

"I want you to remember this," Lucifer grinds out as he starts to fuck Sam, hands holding his thighs open. "So that every man who gets to have this part of you reminds you of me. You feel it don't you, Sam? How much power there is in this? Just imagine how it would feel if you," he pulls out, nearly all the way then slams back in, not giving Sam any time to adjust, "truly let go."

"I won't," Sam manages to get out through gritted teeth, "won't ever give in."

But even Sam knows that just isn't true. He already has.

Lucifer smiles, pulls out and gets Sam on his hands and knees in front of him, pushes back in. He has one arm on Sam's chest, holding him there, flush against him. The other hand he wraps around Sam's cock and strokes him, featherlight, almost imperceptible, but it feels like electricity through Sam's whole body, through his brain. It feels wrong, intense. Inhuman.

"You and I," he whispers against Sam's shoulder as he thrusts in, deep, "are meant to be. You cannot stop it, Sam, just like your brother and the messengers of God won’t stop the seals from being broken."

Sam can't listen to any more of this because the more he listens to Lucifer, the more it’s making sense.

"Shut up!" Sam tries to center himself, draws down deep. His power sparks for seconds before Lucifer holds Sam's hand down, pushes it into the dirt. Sam can feel the strength of Lucifer's power, like a wave, and he can't hold out against it, feels like he's being weighted down with the effort. He drops his guard for just a moment, and he can feel Lucifer's power mixing with his own. It makes him feel invincible. It's so fucking sweet, and he can't help moaning with it, pushing back onto Lucifer's cock.

"You see, Sam? This was always meant to happen, the two of us, joined. Azazel chose well."

"More," Sam pants out, not thinking about what he's saying, just giving in. His blood is screaming for it, and he doesn't have the strength to resist anymore. "Give me more of it. Please."

"Of this?" Lucifer pushes in, hard, deep and Sam whimpers, his cheek pushed into the ground, scraping back and forth with every thrust inside him.

"Everything," he groans out, "I want everything. All of it. God forgive me."

But God isn't listening. He hasn't been for a long time.

Sam wants more than just a taste. He wants it all, and yet he doesn't want any of it. Sam's tried, so fucking hard to be anything but this, and he's so damn tired of fighting it. He wants Lucifer's fingers clawing their way into his flesh, feeding him power, burning and scarring and changing him completely. He wants to be fucked wide open, wants it to hurt, wants to come screaming with all the power of Hell in his veins.

This is what they're afraid of. This union. This is what Sam's own father tried to put a stop to with his dying wish. It's why Castiel pulled Dean out of Hell.

But right now, down here, there isn't a human, or angel, or demon that can stop it.

***

When he comes to, before his conversation with Dean, Sam thinks maybe he dreamed it all. That maybe all he'd been was asleep, not dead, and everything that happened down there in the pit was a figment of his paranoid, screwed-up brain.

Then Dean opens up to him, tells him the truth, and Sam lives it all again.

That night when he brushes his teeth, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and all he can see is his own face staring down at him while a body that looks like his fucks him and breaks him and makes him realise that no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, his destiny is solid.

Dean suffered eternities because of Sam's destiny, and that night, when he's asleep, Sam puts his hand on Dean's head, gently, so he doesn't wake up, and wipes his memory free of it all. Makes it so that all Dean'll see from now on will be flashes.

_Slippery slope, brother._

Sam dreams that night of blood and angels and death and demons, and of his own eyes turning yellow. He dreams of the sixty-sixth seal breaking, and Lucifer kissing him, his hands searing Sam's skin. It's repulsive and wonderful and painful and beautiful, and Sam hates it and loves it more than anything in the world.

He pictures Lucifer holding him down and fucking him raw, as he begs for him to stop in one breath and begs for _more, harder, deeper_ , in the next.

Sam comes with his hand on his cock and his eyes closed, seeing Dean's face, twisted and evil and beautiful, along with Lucifer's milky-white eyes staring back at him.


End file.
